Parallels
by Giggling Vulcan
Summary: A retelling of the Next Generation episode "Parallels" using the Enterprise cast, with T'Pol in place of Worf. --COMPLETE--
1. Default Chapter

Parallels  
  
By Giggling Vulcan  
  
Genre: Romance/Drama/Parody Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: If I owned Enterprise, Archer would have flown out an airlock long ago. Don't own it, don't make money from it, don't sue me.  
  
Summary: This is a parody of The Next Generation episode "Parallels," But using the Enterprise crew and T'Pol in place of Worf.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
T'Pol sat at the piloting console of Shuttlepod 1, the course set for the current location of Enterprise. She closed her eyes and meditated over the current state of events.  
Earth was safe now, the Xindi thread eliminated. Enterprise was to continue the mission she was meant for: exploration. T'Pol's field- commission had been renewed until the Captain could (how did he put it?) pull strings. Enough strings, in fact, to weasel her way out of basic training and to convince the authorities to induct her into Starfleet while maintaining her current rank, which in the terms of Starfleet would be a commander. It was only logical, she assumed, that they take that course of action. Starting her back at the bottom of the chain of command would be folly; expertise, training, and experience wasted. She had completely proven herself during the Xindi conflict to Starfleet, she assured herself. Despite her sureness of her quality as an officer, she felt slightly unnerved.  
Her eyes snapped open when she caught herself. Apprehension was an emotion. Even without the Trellium in her system, T'Pol still experienced a full range of emotions, and as much as she denied it to herself, she was growing even more accustomed to them.  
She was an average Vulcan when she'd first set foot on the Enterprise. She was a Vulcan who followed Surak, logic, and had an easily offended nose. By cultural belief, unnecessary physical contact was taboo. She had been a typical Vulcan. But as her time with humans progressed, so did T'Pol of Vulcan. Her actions had led her to unwanted encounters that had weakened her mind. The Pa'nar Syndrome and the Trellium-D left it vulnerable to a number of influences, some negative, some positive, and some she couldn't begin to categorize as good or bad. The most dominant in this category was Commander Tucker.  
She remembered the first time she'd made the Commander's acquaintance. In those seemingly distant days, she wouldn't even shake his hand. In just three short years, she'd been as physically close to him as Human or Vulcan alike could get. The emotions she experienced through the Trellium had no name to her. She hadn't bothered to question someone knowledgeable on emotion to name them for her. All that mattered was the sensation they gave her; how close to Human they allowed her to get. How close to Trip they allowed her to get.  
There had always been something about him, something lurking behind those mischievous blue eyes that touched her from the beginning. Some sort of magnetism that drew her attention to him every time he entered the room. Some sort of unknown and unexplained energy that was exchanged between them when they worked together and engaged in neuro-pressure. Even before the Trellium, he could always work his way under her skin just enough to seize her emotions and bring them dangerously close to the surface. Now, she missed his presence. Sitting alone in the shuttlepod, she admitted to herself what must be true. She...loved him. There could be no other alternative term. But this sudden revelation frightened her and shook her so deeply that she couldn't bring herself to admit it to him, even when she knew that this emotion was requited. What would it mean for their fragile relationship? It had certainly been through it's share of pain, bliss, and trials over the past year. Its tentative course had been disrupted and destroyed time and again. But he had offered to talk to her. He told her he was "all ears", a rather crude Human metaphor, she thought, but somehow, she found his childishness endearing. She made up her mind that she would have that conversation with him when she returned to the Enterprise. She just hope that the proverbial "bomb" she was going to drop wouldn't ruin that fragile trust forever.  
He had asked many questions when she chose to take her leave on Vulcan. Everyone else thought it was quite natural, but considering he thought something was terribly wrong with her (which wasn't far from the truth), she assured him her trip to Vulcan was routine at most. He had grudgingly accepted her vague description of what she would do and continued on his journey to Earth to consume all of his mother's salt and pepper catfish he could before they disembarked once again, two weeks later. She found the prolonged separation to be somewhat depressing. But she would see him soon, and she would speak with him, she admonished herself.  
That would have to wait a bit, though. She was to report to Dr. Phlox as soon as she boarded to relate the findings made during her stay with Dr. Yuris. Dr. Yuris had all but lost his position in the Vulcan medical exchange, but he used this to his advantage to search for a more advanced treatment for Pa'nar Syndrome. He had requested that T'Pol return to receive additional treatment and be the test subject of his new findings. The procedure had gone extremely well.  
Clearing her mind, T'Pol kneeled on the floor of the shuttlepod and lit a candle in front of her, attempting to get some much needed meditation. Her mind felt foggy and tired from the procedure, and she found it increasingly difficult to achieve the level of concentration that was required of her. After a few minutes of trying, she opened her eyes and blew out the candle. Meditation was not going to be possible. It would be illogical to continue to attempt it.  
She sat back down in the chair in front of her console and double- checked the settings. She adjusted the course heading a bit and gazed out at the stars. She felt slightly burdened, reminding her of her need to cleanse her mind. She found that the Human practice of "keeping a log" was the best alternative.  
"Computer, begin recording." She said. "Sub-commander's log, supplemental. I am currently en route to rendezvous with the Enterprise. I found my stay on Vulcan quite enriching. Dr. Yuris's treatment was highly effective. He believes is also helped to repair some of the damage to my synaptic pathways caused by the Trellium-D. Dr. Phlox will be pleased with these results, as am I."  
  
Trip glanced around Engineering to make sure there weren't any unwanted eyes patrolling his general area. He touched the computer screen a few times, typing in necessary access codes.  
"Bingo..." He whispered and the words flashed onto the screen, "Accessing Crewmember Files."  
Soon, the list of names popped up. Trip stole a quick glance over his shoulder again, then accessed the Bridge Staff Personnel Files. Quickly, he selected Sub-commander T'Pol.  
"Yes!" He hissed triumphantly.  
  
STARFLEET AFFILIATE PERSONNEL FILE: T'Pol Species: Vulcan  
  
Rank: Sub-commander (in Vulcan hierarchy)  
  
Assignment: Science Officer, Enterprise NX-01  
  
Full Name: T'Pol  
  
Date of Birth: March 3, 2088  
  
"No way!" He exclaimed. He checked the chronometer at the bottom of the screen. To his pleasure, it displayed, "March 2, 2154".  
Since he had finally got T'Pol to confess her age to him after three years of trying, he thought it was okay now to look up her birth date in the database. To his absolute delight, it was tomorrow. He grinned widely as he closed the window and continued to smile and hum as he finished up his duty shift in Engineering. It was late and T'Pol wasn't going to be back until the next day, which gave him limited time to work his magic. He needed recruits.  
As he exited Engineering, he sighted his first unfortunate victim, who was trudging along the hallway to the Mess Hall in his characteristically pessimistic mood. He glanced up when he heard Trip coming.  
"What are you so bloody cheerful for?" He asked with interest.  
"Glad you asked." Trip said, still smirking as he joined his friend. "Tomorrow happens to be the birthday of the resident Vulcan."  
"What are you up to?" Malcolm asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.  
  
"Oh, nothin'..." He shoved his hands in his pockets as he picked up the pace a bit. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some balloons to replicate...partner in crime is appreciated if you're up to it."  
"As long as I remain anonymous. I don't want to be subject to any 'Vulcan wrath' if you don't mind. I'll join you after I get something to eat. I'm starving."  
"Thanks, Mal." Trip replied, walking off down the corridor, whistling happily to himself.  
"By the way, how old is she?" Malcolm called after him.  
Tip turned around, his lips pursed in mid-whistle. "Wouldn't be my place to tell you that! Intimate information you know..." His lips spread into a slow grin as he turned around and headed for his quarters to begin his plans, completely forgetting about the piece of pecan pie he'd promised himself earlier.  
Malcolm stared after him down the corridor, his brow wrinkled in thought.  
"Intimate?"  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	2. An Unexpected Party

Chapter 2   
  
"You're clear for docking." Travis's familiar voice announced over the com link. "Welcome home, Sub-Commander."  
"Thank you, Ensign." T'Pol replied, commencing the docking procedure. She heard the familiar click of the docking clamps and waited for the airlock to repressurize. It was good to be back.  
  
"Ah! Sub-Commander! It's good to see you again!" exclaimed Phlox as she entered sick-bay. He was, of course, in a cheerful mood.  
She stood with her hands behind her back and waited patiently while he finished feeding his menagerie of squawking, chirping, and growling creatures. "I trust you found your stay on Vulcan pleasant?"  
"Indeed." She glanced around the room, taking in its familiarity.  
"I received the results of Dr. Yuris's tests just a moment ago. He thinks the new treatment is very promising. He did, however, ask me to double check his assessment of your condition. Please, have a seat." Phlox motioned towards a biobed, which T'Pol obediently perched on. He withdrew his hand scanner and began his scans.  
"Any dizziness? Headaches?"  
"None." In fact, she felt quite healthy at the moment. Healthier than she'd felt since she first contracted the Pa'nar Syndrome.  
He closed the hand scanner and smiled at her warmly. "I can't find a thing wrong! Your brain waves are on normal frequencies, the synaptic pathways appear to be in a much better state than your previous scans. I believe this is quite the medical breakthrough!"  
"Thank you, Doctor." She replied.  
"You may go now. Oh! And welcome aboard! And may I be the first to wish you a very happy birthday." He grinned a little too knowingly. T'Pol looked at him, suspicion forming in her mind.  
"You seem to be hiding something." She assessed. "Commander Tucker hasn't taken advantage of that knowledge, has he?"  
"Well, no...not to my knowledge..." He lied, still hiding it with a smile. "He knows Vulcans don't celebrate birthdays. I doubt he would even try."  
"I see. Now if you'll excuse me..."  
"Ah ! Ah! Not so fast! You are to report to your quarters immediately. You're not to go on duty until tomorrow. Doctor's orders."  
T'Pol gave him a look that bordered on an expression of exasperation. "As you wish." She exited sickbay and headed towards her quarters, intending to get in some much needed meditation.  
Phlox quickly pulled a fresh supply of streamers out of his drawer and headed in the same direction by another route.  
  
Earlier that day...  
  
"Are you sure we're allowed to do this?" Malcolm asked, clutching the bag of gaudy decorations tightly in his hand.  
"You're the security officer. You tell me." Trip replied, still with a goofy grin plastered on his face as he over-rode the security lock on the unsuspecting Sub-Commander's door. The lock clicked open and the door slid open. Her scent wafted from the room to greet him. He'd missed that smell for nearly two weeks now. "C'mon! We don't have that much time!"  
Malcolm grudgingly followed him into T'Pol's immaculate quarters. Everything was orderly and normal, candles and meditation pillows in the corner looked very neglected. "That's soon to change..." Trip thought happily. T'Pol was staying on-board Enterprise. That was enough to keep him happy for a long time.  
"You start blowing up balloons while I hang streamers. Did you talk to chef about that cake?"  
"Yes, for the fourth time!"  
"Just making sure."  
"Four times?"  
"Ya never know!"  
  
Two hours later, Sub-Commander T'Pol's quarters were strung top to bottom with colorful streamers, sprinkled with confetti, and hung with balloons. Chef had just finished delivering the rest of the food when the com beeped. "Phlox to Commander Tucker."  
Trip strode over to the panel and hit the button. "Go ahead, Doc."  
"The Sub-Commander is aboard. I advise you to finish whatever you're doing as soon as possible. I won't be able to hold her here long!"  
"Thanks a million, Doc! We're ready! Tucker out." He turned around to the rest of the party participants, which included a great deal of the senior staff and crew. "Places!"  
  
When T'Pol reached to door of her quarters, she was aware that something was not quite right. She attempted to key in her unlocking code, but her door was already unlocked. Yes, something was definitely out of place. She allowed the door to slide open, ready to enter with utmost caution in case of a violent intruder. However, she was most definitely not prepared for the blast of party horns, throwing of confetti, and loud chorus of "Surprise!" that ensued instead.  
Trip wished he had a camera. The look on her face was absolutely priceless. Her cheeks flushed an unmistakable shade of green and her brown eyes were nearly as big as saucer sections, he observed. She looked like she wanted to crawl under a rock somewhere and hide. He snuck over by her side as the party-goers lapsed into a chorus of "For She's a Jolly Good Fellow".  
"It's just a birthday party, T'Pol. It won't hurt ya." He whispered very close to her ear.  
T'Pol didn't notice his approach and, as Trip would say, jumped ten feet in the air when she felt his warm breath tickling her ear. "I assumed you were behind this." She said with raised eyebrows as soon as she regained composure again. "Jon say's he's sorry he couldn't come. He's finishing up the official stuff with Admiral Forest, but he sends his warmest birthday greetings."  
"That is understandable."  
Trip laughed and handed her a slice of chocolate cake. "So! How does it feel to be the big six-six?" He asked, decisively placing and arm around her shoulders.  
"I feel no different than I did yesterday." She replied, trying to maintain control. His unexpected gesture caught her completely off guard. Still, she made no attempt to shrug his arm off or move away from him, which was what startled Trip.  
Trip laughed again. He'd never seen her this flustered before. She looked absolutely beautiful.  
"I fail to see the humor in my response..."  
Trip just shook his head. He squeezed her shoulders gently. "It's good to have you back, T'Pol." He sighed and they looked at each other for a moment, each trying to read the other. "Happy birthday, darlin'." He said, removing his arm from her shoulders. He gave her a gentle push into the crowd. "Now go on! Mingle! Have fun!" He said with a laugh.  
T'Pol didn't have a chance to object when she was swiftly approached by Hoshi. "Welcome back, Sub-Commander!" She exclaimed. "I had no idea it was your birthday until Trip invited me to come about an hour ago. Sorry for the absence of a present...Anyway—"  
But T'Pol's attention was diverted as she was hit by a wave of dizziness. She closed her eyes and allowed her equilibrium to readjust. When she opened them again, she was looking down at the piece of cake on the plate she was still holding; the yellow piece of cake she was holding.  
"Sub-Commander? Sub-Commander!"  
"T'Pol's eyes snapped back up to look at the Ensign intently.  
"Are you alright, ma'am?" She asked, concern etching the features of her face.  
"A moment ago, this cake was chocolate..." T'Pol stared at the cake again in utter bewilderment.  
"Huh...I wish!" Hoshi smiled. "Happy Birthday, ma'am." Hoshi drifted off into the crowd again, leaving T'Pol staring at her cake. This was illogical. There must be some residual effects from the treatment, she thought. She made a mental note to visit sickbay after this was said and done.  
"Hey, I forgot to give you this." She snapped back to the present again to find Trip holding out a piece of paper to her. "I picked this up from my nephew back on Earth. I thought you might like it."  
T'Pol took the piece of paper and unfolded it, revealing a crude drawing of a green-faced Vulcan, holding it's hand up in the traditional Vulcan greeting.  
"Kinda resembles you, dontcha think?"  
He was answered with the delicate arc of an eyebrow.  
"I'll...uh...just put it up over here..." He said, attempting to escape what might have been what Malcolm described as 'Vulcan Wrath'.  
"Welcome aboard again, T'Pol!" She turned around to face the Captain, which was the last person she expected to see.  
"Commander Tucker informed me that you wouldn't be attending this function."  
"What do you mean? I've been here the whole time." Archer looked a bit confused, as did T'Pol.  
"There must have been some misunderstanding." He smiled. In a lower voice he asked, "How did the treatment go?"  
"I responded very well. Dr. Phlox and Dr. Yuris suspect this is a scientific and medical breakthrough." She said, her voice equally diminished.  
"Well, that's good news!"  
"Indeed..." she sighed. Her head was pounding. "I believe it is."  
  
"Some party..." Trip picked up another plate of cake and tossed it in the nearly full garbage bag. After the party was over, everyone had deserted the place to get to their duty stations or their quarters. Trip had stayed behind to help her get the place whipped back into shape along her particular Vulcan guidelines.  
"Eventful." T'Pol jerked another set of streamers from the ceiling.  
"You shoulda seen that look on your face when you came in." He remembered with a smile. "Looked half scared to death."  
"I don't believe I was near a point of expiration." Reasoned T'Pol.  
"Another expression, darlin'. Just another stupid expression."  
"I don't believe I'll ever fully understand the Human need to use colorful metaphors..."  
"I don't think we do ourselves!" He shoved the last of the trash in the garbage bag and T'Pol climbed down from the stepladder she'd been using to remove decorations from the ceiling.  
"I think that about covers it." He sighed, sitting down on the bunk beside T'Pol. "Oh! I almost forgot!" He reached beside the bed and pulled out a white gift bag and handed it to T'Pol. She looked at him quizzically, as if needing further instruction. "Go ahead! Open it!" He urged.  
She gently pulled the tissue paper out of the top and extracted three new meditation candles.  
"Picked 'em up for you at the Vulcan Compound while I was on Earth. I thought you might need them eventually." He explained, gesturing to her nearly expired candles with his eyes.  
"Thank you, Commander. I'm sure these will be of service."  
"'Commander'," he thought, "Back to square one..."  
"Well, I should be heading back to my quarters. I've got an early duty shift in the morning." He stood up, as did she. "Happy 66th, T'Pol. Oh, and don't worry. I didn't tell anyone your age." T'Pol felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, but she suppressed it until Commander Tucker had exited and the doors had swooshed shut behind him.  
Sitting again, she turned one of the candles over in her hand. Surreptitiously, one corner of her mouth twitched slightly upwards. Not stopping to assess the illogic of the action, she whispered to him. "Thank you, Trip."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	3. The Funeral for T'Pol's Sanity

  
  
Chapter 3  
  
"All Senior and Bridge officers, please report to the situation room. All Senior and Bridge officers, please report to the situation room."  
  
T'Pol groggily opened her eyes, startled that she'd slept so late. She looked at the chronometer. It was 0900, much later than T'Pol usually slept. She quickly got out of bed, noting that her shift started ten minutes ago and she should have been on the Bridge. Such behavior was unacceptable and very uncharacteristic, but she had no time to see Phlox this morning. She ran her fingers through her hair and splashed some water on her face, trying to look as presentable as she could on such short notice. She still had on her uniform from the day before as she rushed out of the door and to the situation room.  
  
Trip glanced across the room at T'Pol, who obviously wasn't having a good morning. She'd been late to the meeting and looked rather worse for wear, wearing the same uniform from the previous day and the area under her eyes tinted green. He caught her attention for a moment, giving her a look that said "Are you feeling okay?" all over it. She looked away in response.  
  
"I've just received our new mission orders." Announced the Captain, surveying his crew. "It seems that some one has been tampering with Echo 2, possibly spying on Starfleet's communications. Enterprise is to investigate. ETA to location is thirty minutes. T'Pol, I'd like for you to scan the area for any residual warp signatures once we're in range. Let us know if you find anything interesting."  
  
"Understood."  
  
"Hoshi, filter through the comm. logs, see if you can find anything out of place."  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
"Dismissed."  
  
The crew went to their respective stations, leaving T'Pol and Hoshi to carry out their duties. T'Pol intended to help Hoshi filter through comm. logs until they were within scanning range.  
  
"Sub-Commander?"  
  
"Yes, Ensign?"  
  
"I think I might have found something."  
  
T'Pol crossed over to where she stood and looked over her shoulder.  
  
"This frequency definitely isn't Starfleet..." She indicated the frequency displayed on the screen. "If I were to make a guess, I'd say it was Andorian."  
  
"See if it matches any of the frequencies that—"T'Pol was hit by a wave of dizziness. She grabbed the console to keep herself from toppling over, then looked over to where Hoshi had been standing, shocked to see her all the way across the room. "Ensign?"  
  
Hoshi turned around from the station she was working at. "Yes, Sub- Commander?"  
  
T'Pol looked utterly befuddled. There was no logical explanation to how Ensign Sato could have crossed the room in 2.1 seconds without her noticing.  
  
"Alert me when we are within scanning range." T'Pol exited the situation room, intending to head straight to sickbay.  
  
"I am not certain of what is happening, Doctor."  
  
"You said things were changing when they weren't supposed to. What specific events reflected this observation?"  
  
"The cake was chocolate, then it was yellow, the Captain appeared after Commander Tucker specifically informed me that he would not be attending, Ensign Sato appeared across the room, momentarily after standing completely stationary beside of me...it isn't logical, Doctor."  
  
"It sounds to me like you could be suffering from memory loss. You are losing recollections of certain passages of time. That would explain how Hoshi appeared on the other side of the room. You lost the memory of her leaving and crossing to the other console."  
  
"But I am sure that the cake was chocolate. How could its change in composition be credited to memory loss?"  
  
The Doctor frowned. "I'm giving you a neural stimulant. This could help with the time lapses you are experiencing. It appears you are having another negative reaction to the treatment."  
  
"Another?" T'Pol questioned. "My initial responses to the treatment were positive."  
  
Phlox looked at her as if she had a Lysarian Larvae growing out of her ear.  
  
"T'Pol," He said softly, "half-way through the treatment, you went into neural shock, we were afraid we were going to lose-"  
  
"I am certain of the results! Access the medical logs and see for yourself!"  
  
"T'Pol, listen to me. You're losing control."  
  
"I am not losing control." She said while gritting her teeth. "I did not go into neural shock!"  
  
The Doctor went to his computer and accessed the official medical logs. Pulling up T'Pol's file, he selected the entry describing the entire process. He silently waited for T'Pol to read it.  
  
"That is not possible." She said in a broken voice. "I have no recollection of..." She looked at the floor. Phlox hadn't seen her this distraught since the night she had come to him for the first time about her Trellium-D addiction.  
  
"It is possible that your memory loss is accredited to the neural shock. I'm sure as your brain begins to heal, your memory will return completely." He gave her a small, sympathetic smile. "I can give you something for the dizziness and headaches, and a small sedative, but I'm afraid that's all I can do."  
  
T'Pol nodded and allowed him to press the hypospray to her neck, hearing the soft hiss of its release.  
  
"I can relieve you of duty." He offered.  
  
"I believe I will be fine. The Captain is anticipating my analysis on the Echo 2 situation." She said quietly.  
  
Phlox nodded and watched as she left.  
  
"Sir, there's a ship approaching. It's Andorian." Travis said.  
  
"Hail them." Archer instructed. Hoshi complied and a familiar blue face appeared on the viewscreen.  
  
"Well, well, well! It looks like the pink-skin is back in space already!"  
  
"Shran!" Archer exclaimed.  
  
"We mean no harm, Captain, we're simply passing through. Might I inquire as to what you're doing so far away from your home-world so soon?"  
  
"We're being sent to repair an Earth station. We would ask that you allow us to do so."  
  
"As you wish, Captain."  
  
The viewscreen blinked off.  
  
"Captain, Commander Shran's ship carries the same warp signature of the ship that is suspected of tampering with Echo 2." T'Pol informed him.  
  
"Tampering?" Archer asked, furrowing his brow. "We never suspected the Andorians of tampering with Echo 2."  
  
T'Pol sat perched on the edge of her bed. She should have been in the Mess Hall eating lunch, but she found she had no appetite. She was absolutely frustrated. Whatever was happening to her had to be stopped, and soon. The memory loss was affecting her ability to complete her duties as science- officer. This was unacceptable.  
  
"Computer, access personal log, date: March the second, 2154. Play."  
  
Her own voice wafted to her from the speakers in her room. "Personal log, March 2nd, 2154. I am en route to rendezvous with Enterprise. I regret that my stay on Vulcan did not turn out as well as I would have wished it to. Dr. Yuris's treatment seemed promising, however, the results were less than rewarding. Doctor Phlox has assessed that I am "lucky to be alive". My condition has—"  
  
"Computer, stop playback."  
  
T'Pol buried her head in her hands. "What's happening to me?" she whispered.  
  
The door chime sounded, which was about the last thing she wanted to hear at the moment...Unless...  
  
"Who is it?" She called out.  
  
"It's Trip."  
  
"Enter."  
  
Trip walked in bearing a look of concern and two pieces of pecan pie. "Didn't see you in the Mess Hall, and I thought you might be hungry...so..."  
  
"Please, have a seat." She scooted over to allow him room on the bed beside her, accepting the piece of pie he offered.  
  
"I heard what happened on the Bridge today." He said gently.  
  
T'Pol looked strangely unnerved, trying to hide her discomfort by focusing her full attention on her pie.  
  
"T'Pol, it's not like you to forget something that major. The Cap'n's getting concerned. I'm...hell, I'm worried sick about you! Please, just tell me. Let me help you."  
  
T'Pol looked up at him. His eyes were too much for her. She stared into their startlingly blue clarity, enhanced by the tears that threatened to escape them. He really was concerned, magnanimously so. For T'Pol, it was overwhelming. It stabbed at her that she was hurting him; hurting him by leaving him in the dark. Yet, if she did tell him, she might hurt him even more.  
  
Her hands were clamped tightly around his neck, squeezing the very life from him as he slid helplessly down the shower wall...How could she hurt him like this when he'd done nothing but love her?  
  
She closed her eyes, the tears threatening to escape if she didn't restrain them, reminding herself again that she was Vulcan, the epitome of control. She wasn't allowed to express herself in such a manner.  
  
"T'Pol?" It started her when he took her hand in his. It caused her to look up unexpectedly; Trip saw the last shreds of her physical sorrow pass across her face as her control returned, and it stunned him. He was still gaping at her with that sorrowful expression that threatened to tear her wits to pieces when the door chime sounded again.  
  
"Enter." She called out, the means of procrastination too tempting to resist.  
  
Hoshi entered quietly, quite astounded at the scene she saw. Trip was sitting on T'Pol's bed, looking at her intently and holding her hand. T'Pol seemed to notice the Ensign's look of confusion, for she quickly slipped her hand away from Trip and scooted over in the opposite direction a bit. "Is this a bad time?" Hoshi asked.  
  
"What do you need, Ensign?" T'Pol asked quickly.  
  
"Captain Archer wanted me to inform you that we've discovered that the problem with Echo 2 was a simple malfunction, no foul play suspected on the part of the Andorians..."  
  
T'Pol nodded. "Thank you, Ensign." Hoshi left as quickly as possible, it seemed. The whole ship was acting like this was a funeral, and T'Pol's sanity was the unfortunate death. She looked back over at Trip, but there was something different. His compassionate demeanor hadn't changed, but his clothes certainly had. In place of the uniform he had worn moments before, he wore a grey t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. He picked up on the confused look she gave him.  
  
"T'Pol? You're lookin' at me awful funny...what is it?" He asked.  
  
"Your...your unifor—"Her attention was diverted by the picture that was tacked up on her wall. Instead of the green Vulcan, there was a crude sketch of Enterprise. It appeared that the picture was tacked on the opposite wall that Trip had put it on in the first place.  
  
"T'Pol!"  
  
"Captain, my station isn't responding!" Malcolm yelled over the sound of the Red Alert alarm. T'Pol looked up, dazed and confused to find herself at the science station on the Bridge. An Andorian warship loomed on the viewscreen.  
  
"T'Pol! Polarize the hull plating!" Archer yelled at her. She looked down at her science station, her vision going in and out of focus.  
  
"T'Pol!"  
  
The ship was jolted by the unmistakable 'direct hit.' There was no need to announce it. T'Pol was thrown from her seat, but heard the Captain order, "Travis! Get us out of here!" and regained her seat fast enough to see the Andorian ship fire on Echo 2, destroying it completely.  
  
"What the hell was that?!" Archer blazed at her. "Why didn't you follow my orders?!" His face was turning a rather unbecoming shade of purple.  
  
"I...seem to be experiencing...memory loss due to the treatment I received for my disease on Vulcan..." She stammered.  
  
"Treatment for what!? If it interferes with your ability to carry out my orders, I'm afraid that's unacceptable!"  
  
"Captain—"  
  
"You're relieved of duty, Sub-Commander."  
  
"But, Captain—"  
  
"Report to your quarters!"  
  
T'Pol glanced around the room at the pale, terrified faces of her fellow crewmembers. Hanging her head slightly, she replied, "Understood."  
  
T'Pol collapsed into her bed immediately after entering the room. She was confused beyond her wildest dreams and didn't even have the mental capacity to think anymore. She silently wondered who was suffering from the memory loss, her or the crew. She didn't know what to believe was real anymore. She didn't know if anything she knew was real anymore. Nothing seemed to make sense: the crew, the mission...Trip...It didn't even make sense to speak to him anymore. Did he still have feelings for her, or had that changed after she'd gotten dizzy too? She would hurt him if she did tell him, hurt him if she didn't tell him, if in fact, Trip still existed...  
  
Looking at the ceiling, she said to herself, "I believe the human axiom would be 'Damned if I do, damned if I don't."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	4. I do! I did?

A/N: Appologies for the long wait for the update! My computer's been on the fritz and I haven't been able to use it for a week.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
"Computer, access logs on Shuttlepod 1. Play log entry for March 2, 2154."  
  
"There is no log entry for that date." The words flashed across the screen. T'Pol closed her eyes and thought for a moment.  
  
"Computer, access any personal log entries regarding my shore leave on Vulcan with Dr. Yuris."  
  
The computer hummed momentarily, then her voice began its monologue.  
  
"Sub-Commander's personal log, March 2, 2154. Due to an assault on the Enterprise by a hostile alien race, I will be unable to take my shore leave on Vulcan. Commander Tucker suspects he will require two more days to complete the repairs. As a result, Dr. Yuris is obligated to find another subject for his research—"  
  
T'Pol jabbed a button on the computer and the log ended abruptly. She stared thoughtfully at the screen for a moment until the door chime broke her concentration. Startled, she rose and opened the door manually.  
  
"Why'd you lock the door?"  
  
"Why should I not?"  
  
Trip let himself in, apparently quite comfortable to do so.  
  
"I...uh....heard about what happened on the bridge." He said softly, taking a seat on her bed.  
  
T'Pol occupied her self with straightening up her meditation candles, carefully avoiding unnecessary communication. Maybe if she was cold enough, he would just leave...  
  
"You wanna talk about it?"  
  
"I would prefer not to, Commander." She got up to replace her lighter on her shelf, but was surprised to find a harmonica residing in its usual place.  
  
"Very well, Sub-Commander." The way he said her rank, with such bitingly playful sarcasm...  
  
"Is there anything I can do for you?" She asked, turning around to face him. She found him rummaging around in her refrigerator. He extracted a piece of pecan pie, which she didn't remember placing there. He took a bite and chewed thoughtfully.  
  
"Actually, there is..." He set the pie down and sat on her bed. "I want you to sit down, and chill out for a minute."  
  
T'Pol raised an eyebrow, but in spite of her doubt, took a seat beside him. He gently gripped her shoulders and turned her away from him slightly. He skin tingled at the touch.  
  
"You're really tense, even more than usual." He commented. He slowly slid his hands beneath the back of her pajama top. T'Pol stiffened at the intimate gesture, but relaxed when his fingers began to apply pressure to one of the points she'd taught him during their neuro-pressure sessions.  
  
"T'Pol, I know you don't want to talk about what happened out there...but there are times when it's best to open up, even though it isn't logical." His fingers splayed across complex pressure points on her back that she hadn't even begun to teach him. Her eyes widened in surprise as she inhaled sharply at the sensation it caused.  
  
"Surprise you?" He asked with a grin.  
  
"I...do not recall instructing you in that posture." She stammered.  
  
"Well..." He began mischievously, sliding his hands over her back to a different position. "I had a pretty darn good teacher...and..." He punctuated his words with swift pressure to points that were employed to extract a response that was quite the opposite of relaxation. She stifled a groan as her head fell backwards onto his shoulder, only being able to mute her expression of desire to a soft moan. "...I've been practicing..." He whispered as he closed in to tease the pointed tip of her ear playfully with his teeth.  
  
Groping for her senses through the fog of arousal, T'Pol grudgingly pulled away from him. "I do not believe this is appropriate behavior." She gasped.  
  
"Not even for your husband?"  
  
She stared at him in shock, for the first time noticing the gold band on the fourth finger of his left hand. It was symbolic in human culture, of permanent bonding to another, she remembered. Seeing the love shining in his hurt eyes was too much for her to bear. It was too beautiful to ignore, yet inappropriate to take advantage of.  
  
"This is not my Trip." She thought to herself. "I mustn't lead him to believe that I am his T'Pol either. For once, I must tell him the truth."  
  
"T'hai'la, what's wrong?" He implored, moving to sit beside her again.  
  
"I do not know. Things are...changing..."  
  
"What's changed?"  
  
"I do not remember our bonding...our...being mates...It is as if events, circumstances, continue to change from moment to moment, but I am the only one who seems to be aware of it."  
  
Trip sat, wrinkling his brow, obviously trying to make some sense out of what she was saying.  
  
"So you're saying you don't remember the last three years? You don't remember us falling in love and getting married? You don't remember our bonding?"  
  
"I do remember the last three years...only very differently. We were not...officially together as mates. The Enterprise did not have a battle with the Andorians...and no one believes me..." The hopelessness in her voice resonated through Trip.  
  
"Darlin', whatever's goin' on...I want you to know that I believe you." He took her hand gently in his own. "And that I love you. We'll find out what's happening."  
  
She nodded and held back tears. He was so gentle, so compassionate...She laid her head on his shoulder and he possessively wrapped his arms around her, tenderly kissing the top of her head. She could only hope that her own Trip would be this understanding...this...wonderful...  
  
She processed the emotion she was experiencing, realizing suddenly that, for the first time in months, she felt contentment...happiness...Trellium-D or not, this was the one emotion she'd longed for most of all, and now, she might have to let it go.  
  
"I'm scanning the surrounding area for any temporal anomalies, on and off the ship." Travis said, entering commands into the console in front of him.  
  
"Commander Tucker, please report to Sickbay." Phlox's voice hummed over the comm. system.  
  
Trip tapped a nearby comm. unit. "On my way." He squeezed T'Pol's hand gently. "Let me no if you find anything." He said.  
  
T'Pol nodded and he strode out the door, her eyes following his movements as he went. She thought quietly for a moment.  
  
"Ensign, how long have I been married to Commander Tucker?"  
  
Travis looked up, startled at the question. "Well, um...about two years, I think..." He stammered.  
  
"And when did this...relationship begin?"  
  
"Uh...well...I'm not really sure...gossip started up about you two shortly after that time we had that odd run in with the Vulcans when we were excavating that comet."  
  
T'Pol remembered Trip's snooping problem in her own timeline. Perhaps Trip's invasion of her privacy hadn't been such a bad thing after all...  
  
The console beeped.  
  
Relieved by the excuse to get off the tentative subject, Travis announced, "I'm detecting no temporal anomalies in this sector."  
  
T'Pol lowered her head to hide her disappointment. Travis was thoughtful.  
  
"Maybe we can try to pinpoint the exact moment when things started changing. Do you remember the first inconsistency?"  
  
"I went to Sickbay and Dr. Phlox informed me of a medical problem I did not remember having." She responded.  
  
"Think back. Are you sure that's the first? Maybe there was one before you entered Sickbay."  
  
"Before...yes, I was going through the comm. logs of Echo 2 with Ensign Sato, I felt a wave of dizziness, and she was on the other side of the room. I thought I had blacked out for a moment and had not observed her movements..." She thought back further. "And at my birthday party, the cake was chocolate, then it was yellow. And Commander Tucker informed me that the Captain would not be attending, then suddenly the Captain was there."  
  
"We should try to find a common element in these situations...where were you each time these things happened?"  
  
"I was at the party, then I was in the briefing room...then in my quarters."  
  
"What about the people you were with? Was there anyone who was present at all three?"  
  
"It appeared that most everyone was at my birthday party, then I was with Ensign Sato, then I was with Commander Tucker and Ensign Sato entered..." She had a sudden revelation. "Ensign Sato was present at all of the events and she was in close proximity with me momentarily before I noticed the changes. Do you think this is relevant?"  
  
"It sounds like a start. We should talk to Hoshi."  
  
T'Pol nodded as they headed for the door.  
  
The doors of Sickbay swooshed open and T'Pol strode through, approaching the doctor. While going to the Bridge to find Hoshi, they had been informed that she was badly injured during the Andorian attack.  
  
"Doctor," She addressed, "Is Ensign Sato well enough to answer a few questions?"  
  
Doctor Phlox and Trip, who was standing beside him, exchanged grim looks. T'Pol noticed the red-rimmed condition of the Commander's eyes.  
  
"I'm afraid not, Sub-Commander." Dr. Phlox said with a broken voice.  
  
Trip looked at her sadly. "Hoshi's dead, T'Pol."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	5. A Man with Experience

Parallels 

_By Giggling Vulcan_

Genre: Romance/Drama/Retelling

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: If I owned Enterprise, Archer would have flown out an airlock long ago. Don't own it, don't make money from it, don't sue me.

Summary: This is a parody of _The Next Generation_ episode "_Parallels," _But using the Enterprise crew and T'Pol in place of Worf.

BIG A/N: I live! I really do! I'm so sorry to all of you who have been reading my story for the long wait on the update. Unfortunately, life isn't Star Trek and computers can't run diagnostics on themselves, so you don't know about the Trojans and spyware until your computer goes "KAPLOOIE!" and gives you the black screen of death. Then this thing called "life" happens and the computer repair guy is some intern who only knows what he reads in a technical manual and keeps your computer for five weeks and still doesn't fix it entirely and charges you astronomical rates, which you have to work overtime to cover and you realize, "Oh, gee, you know, I haven't updated my story in forever!" So you go and start writing it again. Then this thing called perfectionism happens and you re-write the ready room scene eight times because it doesn't flow the way you want it to. Then at 3 in the morning, you say "Aww, screw it" and send it to Bucky anyway.

So without further ado, I give you the poorly written chapter five of Parallels, which does nothing to move the story on, but has lots of Trip and T'Pol in it. Some other things about it, there's quite a bit of language (thank you, Mr. Tucker) so this chapter may constitute as an R. It also has a bit of Hoshi/Travis shippiness, so I hope that doesn't bother anyone. And, yes, I killed off another character because I don't want to deal with him, so I'll just say it's "essential to the plot-line" because it sounds better and move on with it. Quite frankly, I don't think any of you will mind. I'll try to have the next chapter up VERY soon (I'm having so much fun with the next part I don't even think it's legal.) Wow...that was much ado...about nothing...sorry about that. NOW! I give you chapter five.

--GV

---------------------------

_Chapter 5_

__

Trip, T'Pol, Phlox, and Travis stood in respectful silence as the body of Ensign Hoshi Sato slid into the imaging chamber.

As Travis watched, a slow tear made its way down his cheek as he watched the lifeless body of the one he had so admired. She had come such a long way from the beginning of the mission. She had been paranoid, afraid, ready to hop the next shuttle back to Earth at the first chance she got. But over the years, she had grown into a strong, intelligent, wonderful woman who was essentially responsible for the redemption of Earth. She had even been willing to give up her life to save what she held so dear, and that would have been the greatest sacrifice of all. Yet, Travis was angry at her death. Such a valiant woman with so much life, who had survived so much had been killed by an exploding console in such a minor battle, when compared to the bigger scale. If Hoshi had to die, she deserved to die valiantly. She deserved to die being a heroine, not a normal communications officer. Travis listened to his inner thought. He knew what he'd felt for the ensign, and he knew that she hadn't known at all. He had kept telling himself that he'd talk to her tomorrow. But the tomorrows had kept piling up until he ran out of tomorrows to pile, and then it was too late. He was left with nothing but a bunch of empty yesterdays. He hung his head as another wave of grief washed over him.

The imaging console beeped, alerting Phlox that the full body scan was complete. Trip and T'Pol waited anxiously as he analyzed the results. T'Pol gazed up into the human's face, searching his eyes. Humans had a saying: the eyes are the windows to the soul. If such a saying were true, then Trip with filled with determination, hope, and care. That made her happier, despite the gloomy circumstances.

He caught her staring at him before she could look away, rather intrigued at her choice of 'ogling subject'. He gave her a slight reassuring smile.

"Well, I fail to see anything anomalous in these scans, Sub-Commander." Phlox said sadly. "I'm afraid Hoshi isn't at fault."

"Ensign Sato is the only link between the occurrences of the shifts. How can she possibly not be related?" T'Pol asked incredulously.

The Commander looked up with sudden inspiration. "What if it wasn't Hoshi?" He said.

"Well, Commander, that is quite the obvious conclusion..." Phlox started.

Trip wouldn't let him finish. "No, no, I'm not saying that Hoshi has nothin' to do with it. What if it's not Hoshi herself, but something she had on her...like...some kind of object that's making the shifts happen?"

T'Pol considered for a moment. "It is worth investigating." She assessed.

Hoshi's uniform was neatly folded on a nearby biobed, unneeded during the autopsy. Phlox wasn't the least surprised to see Travis hovering over it, guarding it as if it held the last essence of Ensign Sato in its seams.

"Oh...umm...I'll check," He muttered, making an excuse to touch its blue fabric, if only briefly.

The air in sickbay was thick with anticipation as the helmsman rummaged through its pockets. T'Pol found that she was illogically holding her breath. She silently scolded herself as Travis retrieved Hoshi's universal translator from one of the jumpsuit's many pockets.

"Would this be anything of significance?" he asked.

"It's worth a try." Trip took the small device from him and stared at it for a long while.

"Perhaps it would help if you activated it?" T'Pol advised.

Trip glared at her, but more in a teasing manner than one of a serious nature, an act he shared with himself in T'Pol's own timeline. "I was getting to that." He looked at her, the concern evident in his eyes. "Ready?"

T'Pol nodded slightly and gave him as much of a reassuring look as her Vulcan upbringing would allow her. He silently accepted this comfort, his fears seemingly allayed for the present time. He activated the UT.

The world around T'Pol became a blur as it spun. She felt her knees buckle under the influence of intense vertigo, but never experienced the hard impact she should have had with the cold floor. After regaining perception for a moment, she realized she was safely enveloped in the Commander's arms.

"T'Pol, are ya alright?" He asked, his voice dripping with concern and worry.

T'Pol opened her eyes, trying to adjust again after the worst transition of all. The first thing that greeted her eyes was the gleam of four silver rank pips. She drew back more quickly than her body would allow, unsuccessful in escaping the captain, for her knees buckled and she was again forced to be supported by him.

Her worst fears subsided when she saw Trip's bright eyes, not the dark hooded eyes of Captain Archer.

"Y-you're the captain?" She asked incredulously.

"Trip looked confused. "Umm...yeah?"

She was even more shocked to find herself dressed out in a Starfleet issue uniform.

"I wasn't the captain in your timeline?"

She looked about wildly. Everything in this timeline was so different...except...

"Are...we still married?" She asked timidly.

"Of course!" He seemed to be just as confused as she was.

"Then the universal translator..." she attempted to stand on her own again, turning away from him to look at the Doctor and immediately began teetering.

"Oh, no ya don't." Trip said, catching her from behind. He pulled her against him, supporting her with his arms around her waist. She allowed herself to lean against him, after some internal arguments of logic.

Phlox's hand scanner had been out ever since the anomaly had occurred. "I'm detecting a quantum flux in your RNA." He said with a frown.

"Meaning?" Trip asked impatiently.

Phlox held up a hand to silence him and continued to analyze the readouts.

"Odd..." he mumbled.

"Doctor?" T'Pol interjected.

"The quantum flux extends to the subatomic level."

"Impossible." T'Pol crossed her arms in doubt.

"I agree, but the readings are still here."

"Then your instruments must be at fault." She was insistent in her claim.

"I can assure you, I ran a diagnostic on all of my equipment this morning, and—"

"Could someone please tell me what's going on?!" Trip Tucker was an engineer. He could recite the formulas referential to warp theory by heart. He could realign plasma injectors, defuse circuitry, and refit an entire NX-class starship blindfolded, yet with this sum of mechanical genius, he was not privy to what the subatomic cellular layer RNA composition was, or what happened when it was in a state of quantum flux.

T'Pol appeared slightly annoyed, ever the Vulcan scientist, yet she condensed herself enough to explain. "All matter in the universe resonates on a quantum level with a unique signature. This signature is constant and cannot be altered by any known process. It is the basic foundation of existence."

"T'Pol is correct. This quantum flux means that the matter she is composed of is...asynchronous with normal matter. If these findings are correct, T'Pol should not even exist." Phlox frowned.

"But she's standing right here!" Trip exclaimed.

"That, I cannot explain either."

Trip stood in thought for a moment. "You say these changes started happening after you returned from Vulcan?" He asked her.

"Yes."

"But I know for a fact that you didn't go back to Vulcan. Nobody's left _Enterprise_ for weeks, even."

"I clearly remember my stay on Vulcan, and the return journey on Shuttle pod one."

Travis, who had remained respectfully silent in the corner of the room, piped in. "Maybe something happened on the way back." He stated glumly, obviously very morose. Everybody stared at him. "It seems...logical..." he concluded.

Trip pursed his lips and nodded. "Do you remember the course you took to return to the ship?" He asked.

"I believe so." She replied.

"Good. Travis, have _Enterprise_ retrace her steps according to T'Pol's coordinates. Set a course for her last known position and scan for any temporal anomalies." He ordered.

"Aye, sir"

"T'Pol, after assisting Travis in setting the course, would you meet me in the ready room?"

"Of course." She replied.

"Great. Travis, Phlox, comm. me if you find anything."

"Understood, Captain."

And with that, they all went to fill their respective duties.

"Come" said the voice through the ready room door. T'Pol opened the door and stepped silently inside.

Trip was standing at the window, staring out into space, literally. He was perplexed as if something was on his mind. They both had something on their minds.

She walked up beside of him. "Captain, Ensign Mayweather has successfully set the heading to my last known coordinates. Nothing of interest has appeared thus far." She apprised.

"Captain..." Trip reflected, chuckling to himself, leisurely putting an arm around her waist. "You haven't called me that since...well..." He shook his head silently again, as if remembering some kind of fond memory.

T'Pol raised an eyebrow as he fidgeted slightly. "Well...uh...that's not really important..." he stammered.

T'Pol continued to give him the dreaded eyebrow of death as he stared at the floor and shuffled his feet. Absently, he began to caress her side, sending shivers up T'Pol's spine.

"I keep forgetting..." He sighed. "You're not completely the same T'Pol I know."

T'Pol was slightly uncomfortable with his blatant display of affection. Fighting to maintain her mental control and self-discipline and not take advantage of the situation, she shifted slightly to the side, but tripped over the molding on the wall and lost her balance.

"Careful." He said, grabbing her arm before she could fall, obviously mistaking her evasion of his touch as another bout of dizziness.

"Thank you." She whispered, standing slightly further away from him than before. The close proximity to him made the air around her crackle with tension and did nothing for her control.

A long uncomfortable silence followed, in which Trip just shuffled his feet and stuck his tongue in his cheek in that thoughtful way that he always did. T'Pol had to find something to break it up, something to get him talking again.

"What is my rank and position?" she asked.

Trip, obviously thankful for the subject change, jumped at the chance to answer. "You're a commander, chief science officer...and my number one all the way, darlin'." He said.

"I am now affiliated with Starfleet?" She asked.

"Sure are." He began. "When we got back from the Xindi mission, you put in for a field commission. They inducted you and instated you with the rank equivalent to what you already had, which was commander."

"And what of your position? When did you become a captain?" She asked curiously.

"With this Andorian thing popping up, they needed someone who knew the _Enterprise_, and no one knew her better than her chief engineer, and maybe her first officer, but you hadn't been cleared by Starfleet yet, so the command...went to me...Ever since Jon..." His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, his eyes watering slightly. He shook his head and tried to clear it. "Damn shame..." he muttered in the same wavering voice.

T'Pol looked up into his face, his eyes exposing enough for her to conclude, "Captain Archer was killed in the Xindi attack." She said it softly and as compassionately as possible, not wanting to disrupt such an obviously delicate subject with Trip.

"Damn..." he muttered again. He crossed to a couch T'Pol didn't remember being there before and sat down, briskly rubbing his hands across his face. "Just when you think you're gettin' over this grief thing, it comes right back and slaps you in the face..." He began to tear up as he fought the memories that plagued him once more.

T'Pol came to sit beside of him concern evident in her soft features. She remembered what it was like when Trip grieved. He always held it back until he couldn't keep it in any longer, then it came out in a long, angry, yet sorrowful tirade that was bittersweet to watch and certainly more so to experience. He had been so awash with such raw emotion that day that she had comforted him. She had found herself so far out of her element that the only thing she knew to do was to touch him; to comfort him. She was so at a loss for direction that all she was able to do was place a hand on his shoulder, offer him a comment from her own desire to feel emotion. She remembered how desperately he had clung to her hand with both of his, holding on to what little she had given him with such passion and despair. She realized it now: he needed so much more than that solitary hand.

Slowly, she reached over and pulled his hands away from his face, catching a glimpse of a few tears that had silently fallen. He looked away from her, as if the tears that he couldn't control had somehow shamed him. She gently cupped his face and turned it towards her. She wiped away a stray tear that found its way down his face as it trickled from his dull blue eyes, eyes that were much to wise for their age, had seen too much death and pain.

Searching for something to say to him, T'Pol whispered, "Everything is going to be all right, Trip."

"No..." He whispered. He pulled away from her, sitting up on the couch again. "No, nothing's going to be alright again. I lost my baby sister, my best friend, and now I might lose my wife because of all this fucking temporal shit!" He exclaimed. "How can everything be okay?" He began to break again, standing up, he crossed the room and leaned his head against the wall.

T'Pol followed him, undaunted by his emotionality this time. Such anger was understandable. It was to be expected. She walked up beside him. "Trip..." She whispered quietly.

He shook his head. "No..."he mumbled.

"Come here..." She whispered, pulling him towards her. Still shaking his head he silently broke, unable to hold back the tears any longer.

T'Pol pulled him into a comforting hug as his head sank to her shoulder. "Oh, God, T'Pol...what did I do?" He sobbed. She felt a tear escaping her own eye. "What did we do?"

"You did nothing, Trip. Do not blame yourself for the Captain's death, or your sister's. You did everything you could, but you can't save everyone, Trip. You couldn't save the Captain, or Elizabeth, but you did save all of humanity. Think of it along those terms." She began to rub his back, which seemed to soothe him. "The men and women who gave their lives doing the same thing you did..."

"Then why are they dead and I'm still here?" He asked, pulling back from her to look at her, his arms still around her.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "Because there is still something left for you to do. Humanity...even other races, will need you...I need you."

Trip's eyes were so filled with emotion that they broke her heart. "Then I'll be there." He whispered.

A shadow of a smile crossed her face as she wiped the tears away. He reached up and put his hand over hers where it rested on his face. He took it in his own, bringing it from his face and looking at it, caressing it softly. He slowly brought it to his lips, giving the back of it a long lingering kiss. T'Pol watched him, lost in his touch and essence. He finished his kiss, his lips lingering over her copper skin as he kissed her hand again, this kiss shorter than the last as his lips glided across her skin, trailing kisses up her arm. He stopped at her forearm and wrapped his arms around her waist once more, drawing her close as his began to kiss her neck, slowly and passionately. T'Pol's eyes fluttered shut as she began to drown in the ecstasy of his touch, the touch she had wanted and would have welcomed before. His kisses moved slowly up and across her jaw line. She gasped softly as she melted into his embrace, the supple curves of her body molding against his as his lips captured hers in a breathtaking kiss.

Yet as much as she wanted this, as much as she wanted him, she couldn't bring herself to allow him to continue his ministrations. As far as she was concerned, he was another man's wife, even if that wife was another version of her.

As he broke the kiss and leaned in for another, she emitted a pained "Please...stop..." Against his lips. When he seemed not to hear her, she whispered it again. "Trip...stop..." Snapping out of his daze he looked at her in confusion. "Huh?..." Seeing the distraught look on her face he asked in a deep, husky voice, "What's wrong, T'Pol?"

She pulled herself out of his embrace and turned around, unable to look at him. "We shouldn't be doing this." She said softly.

There was a short pause, then "I know..." He said softly. "It's just so hard. You look like T'Pol, you act like T'Pol...hell, you are T'Pol!" He exclaimed. "But you're not T'Pol Tucker, and I need to keep my hands to myself and remember that." He shook his head and continued. "God, I'm sorry T'Pol. Actin' like this isn't fair to you, or her, or me...or Lorian and T'Leil..."

"Lorian and T'Leil?" She asked, turning around to face him again.

"No kids in your timeline, huh?" He said sarcastically. He went to sit on the couch again. "They've got her ears, that's for sure. And that stubborn attitude. Can't say they got anything good from me either!" he said with a chuckle. "I love 'em to death, though. Cutest little rug rats...what're you so cheerful for all of a sudden?" He asked, the mirth slowly creeping back into his features.

T'Pol was blushing slightly, looking dazed and deep in thought.

"T'Pol? Are you alright?" He asked.

"I'm fine." She whispered, a small smile creeping slowly across her lips. The mood seemed to lighten a bit.

"What is it?"

"I just..." She began. "I did not believe it was possible." She mused.

Trip chuckled and crossed his arms. "Oh, it's possible, alright! And that was discovered quite unintentionally, I might add. A tip here, be VERY careful what you wish for...and what you do, actually, that is, if it's the prudent time to be telling you this."

"Far from it..." she muttered

Trip's brow wrinkled. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked. "Is there something going on between you two?"

"Quite the opposite." She countered, "Nothing is going on."

"What!" He exclaimed, sitting bolt upright. "Geez, T'Pol, I'm sorry! When I...I mean...I musta..."

"However..." She continued, "Our relationship is rather...undefined."

Trip mulled her statement over, coming up short. "Meaning?"

"He has feelings for me."

Trip nodded. "And do you have feelings for him?"

"No!" She exclaimed a bit too quickly. Trip gave her an admonishing look. He knew from personal experience that that wasn't the case.

"You know, Vulcans don't lie well." He said. At her glare, he added, "That's coming from a man with experience, of course."

T'Pol sighed and amended, "His feelings are...requited."

"But does he know they are?" He asked, raising his own eyebrows.

"I am uncertain."

"And you're afraid to tell him. You're completely out of your element and you realize what it could mean if you just admit it."

T'Pol looked at him with a surprised expression, wondering how he knew all of this private information.

"Once again, spoken by a man with experience." He said. They were both silent for a moment.

"You do not understand." She said. "There are complications...things...we have...done...There is much he does not know..."

"Then tell him." He said firmly. "Nothing's going to happen until you do."

"But..." she began to protest.

"Believe me, nothing is going to happen until you act."

She looked at him in confusion. "Why me?" she asked.

Trip smirked and answered. "To be completely honest with you, the man's a chicken when it comes to women."

T'Pol reflected for a moment. "I am not well educated on human metaphors, but I believe the term 'chicken' refers to unreasonable cowardice. Am I correct?"

"Ouch!" Trip exclaimed. "Actually, in this case, that cowardice is quite reasonable..." He mumbled. "Vulcan women can sure do wonders for a man's inflated ego."

T'Pol looked at him with sparkling eyes. "Spoken by a man with experience?"

"You bet, darlin'."

"_Bridge to Captain Tucker."_

Trip gave her knee a reassuring squeeze and got up to answer to comm.

"Go ahead, Travis."

"_Sir, you'd better get out here. I think I found something."_

"We're on our way." He answered.

T'pol stood and came to his side. "Ready to finish that...fucking temporal shit?" She asked, absolutely shocking Trip with her word choice.

"Absolutely." He replied with a smirk. T'Pol took his proffered arm, and together they headed to the bridge to see exactly what kind of temporal shit they were dealing with.

TBC...soon...really...I promise...please don't hurt me?


	6. The End of All Things

Parallels 

_By Giggling Vulcan_

Genre: Romance/Drama/Retelling

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: If I owned Enterprise, Archer would have flown out an airlock long ago. Don't own it, don't make money from it, don't sue me.

Summary: This is a retelling of _The Next Generation_ episode "_Parallels," _But using the Enterprise crew and T'Pol in place of Worf.

A/N- This is the final chapter! Yay! I'd like to thank my mother, and Gene Roddenberry, and Trip and T'Pol for being so gosh darn awesomeâ€okay, seriously. Fair warning, the chapter has a lot of dialogue (like the rest of the story!) and tons of techno-babble. Also, for those of you who made a comment before about it sounding too much like the original in dialogue, I'm sorry, but this one's pretty close. I couldn't help it. I was going by the scrip for most of the techno-babble, and you can't help but sound redundant (I swear, I'll never type the words 'quantum fissure' again!) and carbon copied. Also, some of it might be wrong, because I had to alter it to fit. Because it's a prequel, they obviously don't have the technology the _Enterprise-C_ had. I don't know if an inverse impulse wake even existsâ€oh wellâ€And I killed someone else! But it was prudent, so don't hurt me. A line was also gratuitously stolen from Teal'C in Stargate SG-1, disclaimerwhich I don't own either. end disclaimer. And now that the story's over, I'm praying that you won't slay me in any kind of morbid way. Instead, would you mind scattering my molecules to the local Dairy Queen? Archer voice It's considered humane!

_Chapter 6-The End of All Things_

"Report?" Trip said, immediately crossing to the captain's chair.

"Sir, I'm picking up some sort of temporal anomaly off the starboard bow." Travis said.

"Full stop, Ensign." Tucker ordered. He turned to the science station, not the least surprised to see T'Pol already there, fingers flying over the console.

It appears to be a quantum fissure in the space time continuum." She analyzed. When it came to scientific discovery, T'Pol of Vulcan needed no prompting. That seemed to be a constant, no matter what the timeline.

"On screen." Trip said.

"The anomaly cannot be seen, but perhaps if enhanced with a warp field, it could be made visible." She replied.

"You heard the lady, Travis."

"Aye, sir, forming the warp field."

Slowly, a glowing blue speck appeared, steadily growing on the view screen. The area around it appeared to be distorted, the stars wavering, almost as if it were a black hole.

"I am also detecting an ion trail intersecting the anomaly, and its signature matches that of an NX-class shuttle pod." She glanced down at her console, touching a few buttons. She looked up at her fellow officers. "I believe I have an explanation."

The bridge staff stood around the table in the briefing room, listening as T'Pol staked her claim.

"So what you're sayin' is this quantum fissure is a kind of 'keyhole' that intersects a lot of timelines?" Trip summarized.

"Precisely. The laws of quantum physics state that there are infinite possibilities with infinite outcomes, and that all of these occur, yet in different timelines, or quantum realities. For example, in one reality, we are standing and having this conversation. In another, we might be sitting."

"So there are infinite Malcolm Reeds having this conversation?" Reed asked.

"That is correct, yet in some realities, there may be no Malcolm Reed at all." T'Pol added.

"Bloody hell, that's confusing!" He interjected.

"So when you entered the fissure, you started shifting between realities?" Travis asked.

"Once again, correct."

"So, how did Hoshi's UT cause the shifts?" he asked, obviously perplexed. Trip was way ahead of him on that. Captain he may have been, but he still knew more about mechanics than commanding.

"The universal translator uses a subspace frequency specially designed for itself exclusively. Whenever it came near T'Pol it intensified the quantum flux, pushing her into a different reality, and for to happen, the impulse wake from Shuttle-pod One must've caused a break in the barriers between the quantum realities." Trip's explanation seemed to be more enlightening than T'Pol's in informing them of the situation they were really facing.

Travis sighed, "You can take the boy out of Engineering"

"The question is," T'Pol began, "how do I return to my normal quantum state?"

They all stood in respectable silence, none having a clue what to do.

"What if we scanned the fissure with a subspace deferential pulse?" Trip mused. "We might be able to locate the quantum state she belongs to and return her to it."

"Sounds like a start." Malcolm stated.

"I concur." T'Pol agreed. "And I suggest we proceed."

_Enterprise _was stationary before the quantum fissure, the subspace differential pulse scan taking an agonizing amount of time.

"I've analyzed over ten million quantum realities within the fissure, and none have matched my signature." She apprised, her tone conveying annoyance. The entire bridge was awash with anticipation. Trip paced across the bridge for the umpteenth time, which T'Pol found more annoying than the lack of progress. After a moment longer she addressed him softly. "Captain." He appeared not to have noticed. She was more than a bit irked now. "Trip!"

He stopped and looked at her expectantly. "Pleaseâ€desist" she stated.

"Sorry" He mumbled, returning obediently to the captain's chair. When it came to the general way T'Pol constantly assessed his behavioral patterns, the words "hen-pecked" came to mind, but he wouldn't trade it for anything else in the universe. He smiled slightly as he watched her work, the lights of the console dancing across her smooth features as her eyebrows creased in frustration at one scan result after another. She was so much like his own T'Pol, yet so much different, but he was still absolutely enamored by her, and he knew her own Trip must be as well. Who wouldn't be?

"Captain!" Reed exclaimed, jerking him out of his reverie. He didn't need to hear Malcolm continue when he saw the Andorian battle cruiser emerge from the quantum fissure.

"Tactical alert!" He exclaimed. "Activate hull plating and arm torpedo bays one and three. Ready phasers!"

"Sir, we're being hailed!" Exclaimed Ensign Douglass. Ensign Douglass had taken Hoshi's position at the communications station. Her voice seemed to terribly out of place in the current command situation that they all realized just how odd it was without Hoshi.

"On screen."

The image that blinked on before them was most definitely not what anyone was prepared for. From the tactical station came a startled whimper as Lt. Malcolm Reed of the _U.S.S_. _Enterprise NX-01 _stared back at the grinning form of Commander Malcolm Reed of the Imperial Army Warship _Callouschap_, a man with a haggard face and haunted eyes, or at least one eye. The other was fully concealed by a black eye patch. He had a deep scar that divided his cheek and gray stubble that surrounded the cold smile on his face.

"Captain Tucker." He said, drawing out his words and leaning back in his chair. "It's been a whileâ€why, I thought my armada would have destroyed you by now!"

Tucker looked about to bridge at his officers. None knew what this alternate Reed was talking about.

"Malcolm?"

"Still with Starfleet, I see!" He exclaimed. "Pity." He stood and began to pace. "A man like you could go far in the Imperial Army. I thought you were wiser than that. Starfleet was weak, and I see the Andorians have proved that well! Tell me, Captain, how does it feel to be the last human vessel left?"

Tucker looked back at his Reed. His eyeballs were bulging as he gaped at the view screen and was a deathly shade of white.

"I think you've got the wrong idea here, Commander." Trip started, holding up his hands defensively. "There's been an anomaly—"

"Lieutenant Talas!" Malcolm barked, interrupting Tucker's explanation. A sultry Andorian woman sauntered into view, dressed in a catsuit even more revealing than T'Pol's usual state of dress. She recognized the woman as the Andorian who had aided Malcolm specifically in the repairs of the armory. She perched on the armrest of Malcolm's chair, running her fingers across his stubbled chin in a very unprofessional manner. Trip observed that the Malcolm of _Enterprise _nearly fell out of his chair.

"Yes, Commander?" She purred.

Focusing his cold grey eyes directly on Tucker, her said stoically, "Destroy them."

The transmission ended suddenly, leaving the _Callouschap_ looming ominously on the view screen.

"C-captain." Reed said, obviously shaken. "They're charging weapons, and a right lot of them, I might say."

"Increase power to the hull plating! Torpedoes, full spread!"

Blue lances of light shot form the Andorian ship, striking in a critical area. They obviously knew where to hit them. The _Enterprise _returned fire with high yield phaser emissions, but didn't seem to make a dent in the well-armored hull of the warship.

"Captain, they are targeting our power systems. It is causing an energy surge within the subspace pulse. The quantum fissure is beginning to destabilize!" T'Pol yelled over the sirens that were blaring.

"Then disengage it!"

"Her fingers flew over the console and paused for a moment. "It is no longer possible!"

Suddenly, the quantum fissure began to destabilize, ripples emitting from its core, badly shaking the ship. The crew grabbed any nearby stationary object, bracing themselves against the jarring waves.

As suddenly as they had begun, the waves stopped.

The crew stood up again, dazed as they looked about the bridge at each other, then back at the quantum fissure.

Their vision was compromised by a blinding flash of light that lasted for quite a few seconds, yet quickly dissipated, leaving a nearly empty star field behind it.

The _Callouschap _still hovered within range, obviously as confused and stunned as _Enterprise's _crew. But the _Callouschap _wasn't the only alien vessel in view. Although the second ship wasn't as alien to them as the Andorian ship, it made it all the more frightening.

It was the _Enterprise_.

There she was in all of her glory before them, a mirror image of their own ship.

With another small flash, another _Enterprise _popped up, then another.

"Captain?" Asked Reed again. "As confusing as all of this is, I believe we could use itâ€as a tactical advantage"

"Douglassâ€send out a distress signalâ€all frequencies" Trip said lightly, his ability to reason still compromised by the current events.

"Ayeâ€sir" affirmed Douglass. "Now transmitting."

"Suddenly, an _Enterprise _began to fire on the Andorian ship, attacking it timidly, at most.

"Malcolmâ€fire at will." Trip commanded.

"Aye, sir. Gladly." Malcolm replied in a rather rough manner, almost huffily.

While torpedoes exploded against the hull, the Andorian ship fired a few phaser blasts, unsure of which ship to turn the offensive on.

Another _Enterprise _joined the onslaught, and even more began appearing.

"Sir, the Andorians' hull plating is offline!" Malcolm exclaimed.

Sure enough, the barrage of weapon's fire was striking deep pits in the hull as small explosions began to tear through the ship's systems. As if in a final desperation for survival, the battle cruiser began limping towards the quantum fissure.

"Bloody yank bastard!" Malcolm yelled as his counterpart cowered away, disappearing through the slit in the star field.

"Malcolm! Hold your fire! They're gone." Trip commanded.

"Aye, sir." Malcolm growled.

Trip turned to T'Pol. "Any idea what's going on anymore?" He asked with a sigh.

"It would appear that the energy surge has broken down the barriers between quantum realities. They are all merging. At this rate, this sector will be completely filled with _Enterprises _inâ€three days"

"Captain" began Douglass. "We're receivingâ€.two hundred eighty-five thousand hails."

"Wish I knew what to tell 'em". Trip closed his eyes for a moment to think. "T'Pol, is there any way we canâ€stop these ships from popping up?"

"In theory, we would have to locate the _Enterprise _that I originated from. If I piloted the shuttle pod back into the fissure, creating a broad-spectrum impulse wake, it might be enough to seal the fissure and stop the realities from merging with out own."

"What're we gonna do with all _these_?" Trip asked, waving his hand and the thousands of _Enterprises _on the screen. Some were very near, some were so far away that they were only distant points of light, but they stretched as far as the eye could see, and in every direction.

"The act of sealing the barriers would send the ships back to their normal state, if successful."

"Then we'll have to make sure it's successful." Trip said imperatively. "Douglass, send a general hail to all ships."

"Go ahead sir."

"This is Captain Charles Tucker III of the _U.S.S. Enterprise_â€or at least the one that was here in the first place. First of all, thanks, to those of you who helped us out back there with the Andorians. It feels good to know that your alternate self cares about you. That brings me to my next point, here. It appears we've run into a quantum anomaly. We think we've got a way to return all of ya'll back to where you came from, but we're gonna need your cooperation. We need to find one ship that has a particular quantum signature. I'm havin' T'Pol transmit that signature to you now. If you have the same one, speak now of f'rever hold your peace and stay here packed tighter'n sardines in a can. Personally, I'd much prefer it if you spoke up. Thanks."

"Sir, there's too much comm. traffic. It's hard to tell who's talking to whoâ€waitâ€there's one responding"

"Onscreen."

The view screen blinked to a view of a bridge identical to their own, only with Captain Archer in command, and Tucker nowhere in sight. Trip was startled when he saw Archer, but seemed rather pleased to see him again, just the same.

"â€Captainâ€Tuckerâ€it would appear that we have the signature that you're looking for."

"T'Pol believes that if we send her through the fissure in the same shuttlecraft that caused the disturbance, it'll send all of us back to our own timelines."

"Our T'Pol has said the same thing."

"Figures." Tucker smirked. "We'll need you to send over Shuttle-pod One. "

"We'll send her right over."

"Oh, and Captain?" Trip said in a nostalgic voice. "It's good to see you again."

Archer looked confused for a moment, furrowing his brow and glancing over at T'Pol. Seeming to understand, he nodded solemnly and ended the transmission.

Trip crawled out from the inside of Shuttle-pod One, grease splattered, but looking optimistic. Sure, he was captain, but he still had more engineering experience than anyone else on the ship. When it came to such a delicate mission, he was the only man for the job. He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair as T'Pol approached, analyzing a PADD.

"How are the modifications progressing?" She asked, running her eyes over the shuttle-pod.

"She's all ready to go." Trip said. "I rigged her with an inverse impulse wake. If it works, it'll repair whatever happened to the quantum fissure. You'll need to activate it right before you enter the fissure."

T'Pol nodded. "There is no predicting where I will end up, or at what time. Time could be restored a few days before the anomaly occurred, or a few days after it."

Trip nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Well, I guess you're all set, then." He said. Coming close to her, he gently caressed her cheek. T'Pol leaned in and pulled his face down to hers, leaving him with a lingering kiss. She drew back and gazed into his emotional blue eyes, imprinting them to her memory as she slowly exhaled. Allowing her fingers to trail down his cheek, she turned abruptly and entered the shuttle, the door swinging soundly shut behind her.

Trip watched the shuttle slowly weave in and out of _Enterprises _as it made its way towards the fissure, yet his mind was more focused on the woman in the shuttle than the mission itself. She meant the universe to him, and if things didn't work out, there was a good chance that he'd never see her again. He couldn't imagine his life without her now. It had been an odd thought to him before when he'd contemplated a relationship with the Vulcan. How could it have possibly worked out? But it did, and the rewards of the hard work were even better than he'd imagined. Following his heart had been the best decision he'd ever made.

"Captain!" Reed exclaimed. "One of the _Enterprises _is firing on the shuttle-pod!"

Trip involuntarily clutched the arms of the captain's chair. "What the hell!"

"They're hailing us!" Douglass piped in.

"Then put the bastards onscreen!"

The screen flashed to another _Enterprise_ bridge, yet this one was dark and filled with smoke. The emergency lighting was the only illumination. Its Captain Tucker ducked as a console exploded behind him, sending an officer flying out of their chair, hitting the floor, most likely dead. This Trip wasn't that happy engineer he usually was. He looked absolutely savage, his bearded jaw set in desperation, his eyes afire with determination, fear, and agony.

"We're not goin' back!" he yelled.

"We got no choice!" Trip barked back at himself, obviously very pissed that they'd attempted to hurt T'Pol.

"Dammit, I said we're not goin'! You don't know what it's like there! Starfleet's goneâ€hell, Earth might be gone too, but we've been to busy running from the Spherebuilders, who I might add, have turned the whole damn expanse into a 'paradise for the faithful', to go check! We're the only one's left! Please, ya gotta help us!"

Trip looked heartbroken, staring at himself, seeing the level of savagery and desperation he'd regressed to. "I'm sorry." He said firmly through clenched teeth. "But there's nothing I can do."

"No!" The alternate Tucker yelled, "We ain't goin'!"

The transmission ended abruptly and the battered _Enterprise_ began firing on the shuttle again.

"Open fire! Try to disable them!" Trip barked.

Two torpedoes lanced from their ship, striking the other one hard.

"Direct hit!...Their hull plating is goneâ€and their engine core's overloading!"

Suddenly, the battered _Enterprise _completely exploded before their very eyes, leaving nothing behind but fiery debris.

"What happened?" Trip asked quietly.

"They'd already taken heavy damageâ€there was no hope for them in any case." Reed said solemnly. "Probably from fighting the Xindi and Spherebuilders"

"Captain, Commander T'Pol is entering the fissure." Apprised the officer who had taken the empty science post.

Trip closed his eyes and bowed his head, thinking silently to himself, _"Please, God, bring her home."_

T'Pol woke up with a splitting headache, lying on the floor of Shuttle-pod One. She sat up, her head spinning, but not as if she was experiencing another shift. This was genuine exhaustion, and the fact that she didn't know who she was, where she was, or even if she existed rather attributed to that awkward feeling.

Standing up uneasily, she made her way to the helm, glancing at the console and the screen. She saw where she was, halfway between Vulcan and her final destinationâ€home. She was quite relieved to find that there wasn't a single _Enterprise _in sight.

Accessing the communications system, she hailed her ship.

"T'Pol to _Enterprise._"

_"Enterprise here."_

"Captainâ€is everythingâ€alright?" she asked tentatively.

_"Yes, Sub-Commander. Is there a problem?"_

"I do not believe so, Captain, but I have much explaining to do when I return."

_"How was your visit to Vulcan?" _The voice most definitely wasn't the Captain'sâ€or at least not the captain in this reality.

T'Pol glanced over at a small bag on the floor containing her continuing treatment and a letter of thanks from Dr. Yuris.

"It was quite productive, Commander."

"So do you think this quantum fissure is something we have to worry about?" Trip asked. He had met her in the shuttle bay and had offered to help her carry her bags back to her quarters after a short assessment with Dr. Phlox. He was absolutely surprised that she'd accepted, but was glad, nonetheless. They were walking at a rather inefficient and illogically slow pace, yet T'Pol had no intention of bringing it to the Commander's attention.

"No. I believed the inverse impulse wake has sealed it permanently."

Trip chuckled lightly. "And I was a captain? You have to send me a copy of this report." He said with a grin. "How were my commanding skills?"

T'Pol thought for a moment. "They wereâ€uniqueâ€yet highly effective." She said, causing Trip to chuckle again. He seemed absolutely giddy to see her after her absence.

"How'd things check out with the Doc?" Trip asked.

T'Pol hesitated, then supplied. "Doctor Phlox has officially informed me that I haveâ€gotten my 'mojo' back."

Trip chuckled and shook his head. "That's the doc for ya."

They reached T'Pol's quarters, yet she didn't key the access code. Instead, she eyed it warily.

"Somethin' wrong?"

T'Pol gave him an icy glare. "I know what you are planning. I will not be surprised."

Trip gave her a highly confused look, laughing lightly. "Surprised? Why would ya be surprised? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't." T'Pol said wryly.

Trip paused for a moment as she took her bags from him and opened the door. "Wait a minuteâ€were you just being sarcastic?" He asked in shock.

"Good-night, Commander." She said. The door slid shut behind her quickly, leaving Trip staring at it. But for the abruptness in which she cut him offâ€he could have sworn he saw her smile.

"Enter." T'Pol called through the door.

Malcolm timidly entered to door, acting as if he was stepping into enemy territory. He was clutching a small package. "Uhâ€good evening, Sub-commander." He said.

"Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Reed?" She asked, standing from where she'd been meditating. Malcolm seemed quite surprised by her choice of silken sleepwear.

"Trip had me pick these up at the Vulcan compound in San Francisco for him since he was in Florida. I was supposed to have them in your quarters somehow before you returnedâ€supposed to be a 'surprise' for your birthday it seems." He offered her the parcel which she took.

"Thank you Lieutenant." She said, turning it over in her hands. "He wouldn't happen to have anything else planned, would he?" She asked suspiciously.

"Well, he did have a big surprise party planned, but the rest of us talked him out of it. We didn't think you'd be much for that kind of a celebratory gathering."

"Once again, thank you, Lieutenant." She said with a slight sigh.

Malcolm smiled at her, "Anytime, Sub-Commander." He said. "Good-night."

"Good-night, Mr. Reed."

After he left, she sat down on her bed, unwrapping the delicately wrapped parcel. It contained three meditation candles, along with a piece of paper.

_"Thought these might be useful to you. I had Malcolm pick them up while I was in Florida with the family. Happy 66th, darlin'._

_--Trip_

_P.S. Check your messages."_

Curious, she arose, activating her computer. Sure enough, a new message icon was flashing.

_"Commander Charles Tucker III cordially invites you to attend something special in the mess hall the night of March 3rd, 0100 hours. RSVP ASAP."_

After deciphering the human acronyms, she sent back a simple message: "I will attend."

Musing quietly, she crossed to her bags and extracted some of her purchases from the market on Vulcan. She selected a robe of Talaxian silk.

Fin


End file.
